


Just a Little Pinch

by theleaveswant



Category: Flashpoint
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Gen, Locker Room, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, One of My Favorites, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-30
Updated: 2011-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-24 04:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/pseuds/theleaveswant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New Guy Raf has nipple piercings, Sam used to, and Spike likes shiny things</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Little Pinch

**Author's Note:**

> See [this post](http://helens78.dreamwidth.org/991397.html) for more TTLY ESTABLISHED CANON re: Sam and nipple piercings.

It took almost two weeks for the fuss of the new job, adjusting to new routines and habits and enjoying the privileges of rookiedom (learning the layout of the equipment lock-up by cleaning it from ceiling to floor, for example) and waiting for cues from the established team, to settle down enough for Raf to take his time in the changeroom at the same time as his teammates were using it.

“Ooh, shiny!”

Raf finished peeling off his shirt and looked up at Spike grinning and gesturing at the steel rings through both his nipples.

“That's okay, right?” Raf asked. “Paperwork talked about visible tattoos and facial piercings, but nothing about body jewelry. I figured, as long as they don't get in the way of doing my job . . .”

“I actually don't know.” Spike shrugged. “I just think they look cool. Kinda like little door-knockers; what's that called, captive bead? Hey Sam, you see this?”

Sam finished vigorously towelling his hair and looked where Spike was pointing. “Ah, cool. I've been thinking of getting mine re-done.”

“Wait, _re_ -done? You mean they've been pre-done?”

“Yeah, for all of five minutes.” Sam started to get dressed. Greg and Ed had finished their workout early to go talk with George and Donna about an upcoming coordinated exercise and would be waiting for them in the briefing room soon.

Raf snorted at Spike's exaggeratedly wounded look. “Sam, buddy, how did I not know this about you? I really thought we were friends.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “We are friends, Spike. We're just not the kind of friends who exchange nipple histories. Besides, it was years ago and I really didn't have them long. Seriously, almost as soon as they'd finished healing I had to take them out again. Basic.” He added the last as an explanation for Raf.

“They still extra sensitive, though, after you took the rings out?” Raf asked.

“Compared to before they were pierced? Oh yeah. Huge difference. That part doesn't really go away.”

Spike grinned. “What did Jules have to say about that?”

“That's none of your friggin' business,” Sam said, turning his face into his locker to cover his blush and stifled giggle.

“Can I tweak them?” Spike stepped around the bench towards Sam, making pinchy crab claws with his thumbs and index fingers.

“I'd rather you didn't.”

“Really? Not even a little bit?”

“Not even a little—get those things away from me!” Sam laughingly swatted Spike's hands away.

“Killjoy. What about you, Raf, are yours purely cosmetic, or—?”

“No, they're functional.”

“Yeah?” Spike crossed back to his locker and Raf's. “May I?”

“Go ahead.” Raf stopped buttoning his uniform shirt and dropped his arms at his sides, allowing Spike to push his undershirt up to his armpits and take hold of his rings.

Sam watched Raf watch Spike watch Raf's face as he tugged slowly, slowly harder on the piercings, and felt his own nipples throb sympathetically. He cleared his throat. “You know any second now somebody's going to walk in here and get the wrong idea about this . . . or possibly not,” he said with a slight, embarrassed frown. He turned his eyes to the door. “Three . . . two . . . one . . . zeeero?”

Nobody walked in.

Sam looked back at Spike and Raf, their eyes still locked on each other's, mouths flickering with suppressed smiles as they each dared the other to laugh or back down first. Neither one looked ready to stop. He hurriedly finished dressing, motions perfected by practice only narrowly preventing him from strapping and buttoning and buckling all the remaining pieces of his uniform on upside-down and backwards, and scurried for the exit.

“I'll see you two in the briefing room.”


End file.
